Sounds of Silence

A long time ago, and not so far away, either. My life was so different, I do not mean physically or spiritually.
The silence of a night was deafening, I wish for more of that silence now, instead of the steady drum of the trucks on the freeway. It never stops.
When we lived in the country, we could tell who was coming to see us by the sound of their automobile. Really, Grandpas old truck had a certain rattle, or squeak, Uncle Charles had a sound of its own, each car was distinguishable. Your dad said his uncle Sterling drove a Nash Ambassador and they could hear him gunning it several miles away.
I remember sleeping at my grandma and grandpas house and being so afraid of the night sounds, They did not have electric lights, on the river, so we had coal oil lamps, I would cringe when Mama blew out the light, All the frogs, crickets, coyotes, dogs, everything you could hear, Freaky for a little kid.
We could hear the steady paddle of the boat as Grandpa was docking, He often went fishing at night, pulling in his trot line. Every sound is amplified in the quiet of the country and sounds carry on the river.
So I do wish for that quiet again, Maybe next summer our dreams will come true. Maybe a nice quiet little house by a river in the Ozarks.
no freeway in our back yard. That is for city folk. Not a country girl.